


The Curious Case of One Guardian Angel

by Starlit_Night_67



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Supernatural
Genre: Angel Percy, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 06:37:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4909108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlit_Night_67/pseuds/Starlit_Night_67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"No way." Percy whispers. "Yes way," The Creator says gently. "You are one of them. And I need your help." </p><p>The Giant War goes much differently than anyone expects. Percy's dreams of a future with Annabeth in New Rome are torn apart, and he is forced into yet another war. He doesn't mind that. What he minds is that daddy dearest needs this war to teach the bigoted dicks a lesson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Curious Case of One Guardian Angel

Chapter 1 – Up and Out of Hell

_Where am I?_

He sees nothing but complete black. He can feel some kind of casing ( _Is it glass?_ ) around him, and he has positively no idea how he even landed here. He was damned a few seconds ago, and now he’s stuck in this prison. And, to put the icing on the cake _he can’t breathe._

His lungs are collapsing on themselves, and he’s lashing out, kicking and punching the glass cage he is in ( _His coffin, for God’s sake!_ ). Dean remembers being tortured for thirty years and torturing other souls for a decade, a moment he is not proud of, now that he’s digging herself out. Thank goodness Sam had not salted and burned his body.

The lid shatters, and he’s clawing his way out to the Earth.

Now, he had never been claustrophobic, but nearly dying by asphyxiation really changes your view on things. He will never be able to look at a small space the same way ever again.

The cool wind hits his face, and he’s gulping in air like a dying man. He _was_ dying a few minutes ago, so he thinks that the expression is more than apt.

His 69 ‘Chevy Impala isn’t here. Figures, Sam must have worked it to death after running it for forty years.

He’s hit with a sudden bout of homesickness. _Sammy, Bobby, Ellen, Jo . . ._

The gang must be dead by now.

After all, forty years have passed since he was dragged by Hell’s dogs.

He shudders at the memory. They had torn him apart at that dreadful place when his contract had expired.

He can still feel their claws.

God, he _still_ couldn’t grasp the concept of being the only alive from year 2007. And as a twenty-seven year old adult.

 _Where am I?_ He thinks again.

The first thing that pops in his head is Lawrence, Kansas. But he knows that isn’t the answer.

So, to sum it up, Dean is in the middle of bum fuck nowhere.

A warm hand clutches his shoulder, and hauls him to his feet. He turns around to face whoever helped him, and to his surprise, he finds no one. It’s like the guy was metaphysical ( _Isn’t everything he deals with is metaphysical?_ ).

He stands up with caution, dusting off dirt and lint from his clothes and takes a good look around. No threats. That’s good.

He inspects his body, and surprise! He is rebuilt from scratch. Not even his scars are there, his skin is as smooth as porcelain, and it’s so unfamiliar because he hadn’t had this kind of skin since his fifth birthday. He’d gotten so used to his over-worked and battered body, seeing it like this in such perfect condition gives him vertigo.

He can feel his ( _or is it ‘its’_ ) presence next to him, and he can feel rather than see, the guy smile at him kindly.

His hand is still on his shoulder, like he’s guiding the former Hell resident.

Dean decides to let him lead the way, after much thought. If he hadn’t killed him by now, he probably had no intentions to kill Dean. And if he did, it wouldn’t make a difference, considering his dead family.

The guy’s chuckling right now next to Dean, and Dean feels like he’s missing something. He’s about to demand what’s so funny, but then reminds himself that he’s probably hallucinating about the entire thing.

His invisible friend looks affronted.

Now it’s Dean who’d trying to not laugh. He just doesn’t want to come off as crazy to the people.

They’re walking through the streets and Dean’s wondering how lost he must have been in his thoughts to not even notice how much time had passed. His guardian is still next to him, ever so faithful.

He sees familiar surroundings and dully notices that he’s being ushered to some fancy hotel, and he doesn’t even have to pay the bill. It’s like the receptionist got the money in advance.

“Hello!” She says cheerily, “You must be Dean Winchester. Mister Jackson has reserved a room for you, come this way!” she gestures.

Dean has positively no idea what she’s talking about. And who the heck is ‘Jackson’?

His metaphysical companion’s eyes are sparkling with mischief. Dean, despite being with him for a period of time can’t determine his features, which is another clue that he’s hallucinating. Still.

The guy looks insulted.

Well, he’ll have to deal with it.

Dean follows the chipper woman, and is so into his thoughts, he doesn’t even notice a thing about her.

The corridor looks stunning, and Dean wonders which rich guy had funded piss poor him.

His friend is smiling warmly.

“Here!” she says, handing him the keys and pointing at door 302. “Here’s your room, and I hope you enjoy your stay at the seven-star hotel!”

_A seven-star hotel?! The guy must be rich as fuck._

His friend is grinning like a maniac, like he knows something Dean doesn’t. He shrugs his shoulders like he’s trying to say: _Just go with the flow, buddy_.

Another thing about his savior – he probably can’t talk.

Said guy rolls his eyes in annoyance.

Dean just follows his friend’s advice, and decides not to think of any other flaws about Mystery Man.

Mystery Man looks pleased with himself as Dean opens the door and gasps.

He is in a freaking _palace._

Seriously, how could the guy afford this? This is like a place where the Queen of England would reside! Seriously, it is like a Penthouse Suite.

His friend just smiles slyly.

 _And_ to top it off, it is a Hunter’s dream. Guns, Holy Water, Salt . . . all kind of ammunition he’d need for warding off stuff.

Dean really likes this Jackson guy.

He checks the calendar, wanting to know what the date is. And promptly screams.

It was the eighteenth of August 2007.

 _2007_.

Only a few months have passed since then . . . _no way_.

His friend glares at him. _Yes way,_ he seems to be saying. It is so like the Bitchface #15 Sam usually gives him when he said something was impossible, Dean immediately quietens.

Dean all of a sudden feels filthy as fuck, and decides to take a _long_ , scalding hot shower. And figure out why his shoulder was aching like Hell.

 _What’s the time?_ He wonders, and promptly sneaks a glance at his watch.

Which is completely destroyed. That is just sad.

His guardian eyes his watch.

Dean sighs, running a hand through his hair. Mystery Man looks wistful, and Dean has no idea how to respond to that.

So he just enters the shower, and thank goodness his friend doesn’t follow him. That would have been awkward.

The water burns, but Dean doesn’t mind. He enjoys the steam soaking into his skin and watches the dirt go down the drain with some kind of detached fascination. He hums the tune to AC/DC’s greatest hit ‘Back in Black’ just for comfort.

He wonders how Sammy died. And Bobby. And Jo. And Ellen. And how he is going hunt without them.

 _I guess I’ll just have to get used to it._ He thinks sadly.

When he steps out of the shower with the steam billowing around him, he quickly dries himself with a fluffy white towel, and rubs at the mirror to get a good look at himself . . .

. . . And ends up staring at his reflection, his mouth open in a silent scream for the second time in half an hour.

Dean can practically _see_ his friend laughing like a maniac.

 _Why does it always have to be me?_ He groans.

**\- X -**

“No!” Percy screams.

His vision goes completely red, and he remembers his promise: _I will rip Gaea apart with my bare hands._

Well, it is time to make good on his oath.

Percy faintly registers water exploding everywhere, and feels his powers going haywire. He’s blindly killing every stupid monster that stands in his way to Gaea.

They all fall like dominoes. It’s almost funny, really. But Percy’s in no mood to laugh.

_They did what no one else dared to._

His sword is a bronze blur, and he’s dimly aware that everyone is gaping at him. Well tough, he doesn’t care.

It’s like he has the curse of Achilles again; there’s not a single scratch is on his body.

Within minutes, the monsters are decimated into tiny flakes of golden dust. The water around him turns to ice, a huge chunk of which he’s standing on, and all the rest are pointed at the Earth Goddess, who’s just smiling amiably, like it was some kind of nice show.

Percy wants to feel sick. But he’s far too angry.

“C’MON GRANDMA DEAREST!” He screams so loudly, he’s wondering why he hasn’t gone dumb or deaf yet. “YOU WANTED A FIGHT? I’LL GIVE YOU ONE! C’MON YOU STUPID PRIMORDIAL, LOOK AT ME!”

Gaea looks like he’s gum at the bottom of her sneakers (not that she has any), and it makes Percy mad.

The army is still staring at him with frozen terror.

Gaea calmly raises an eyebrow, not impressed in the slightest. Oh, he’ll show her. “What are you waiting for?” She barks at her army, who flinch like they’ve been shocked. “Go get them!”

She turns to Percy, and smiles coldly. “And as for _you_ , Percy Jackson,” she says maliciously, “I’ll deal with you myself.”

Percy lets go of the ice shards and takes a swan dive at the Earth Goddess. Gaea creates an earthen barrier around herself, and the icicles shatter into a million pieces, falling like hail. Percy somehow manages to create a coating of ice around his sword and pierces right through her shield, and manages to somersault just in time.

The damn Primordial materialized somewhere else.

A hurricane brews under his feet and more icicles launch themselves at her. Gaea raises her hands and breaks them by raising the Earth and clapping it together

He needs a new plan. She can go on forever like this.

Sadly, Percy can’t. His hurricane dissipates, and Gaea smirks in triumph.

For a second Percy thinks he can hear Annabeth next to him.

_Come on Seaweed Brain! Use that Kelp-filled head of yours! Primordials are representations of their elements. They gain power from them. So what do you think will defeat one?_

And a light-bulb goes off above Percy’s head.

_That’s it!_

White-hot light explodes around him, and his back tears open. He doesn’t know how it happens, but he’s _floating_. In _air_. Without water.

He’ll think about it later.

Percy swoops down and grabs the Primordial by her shoulder. Gaea’s smug expression turns to horror when she realizes that yes, Percy’s succeeding; and no, he’s not going to let her go.

She’s kicking and punching him, throwing pieces of rocks and even turning to dirt, but somehow he manages to keep his grip on her in the air. He flies up, _up_ , **_up_** . . .  all the way above the clouds.

White light (the holy kind that makes you bow in reverence) is all around them, and Gaea is horrorstruck when she catches a glimpse of his eyes. Well, she should be. They’re going to be the last thing she sees.

Her attempts grow more desperate and she elongates in size. He can’t hold her anymore . . . at least his _hands_ can’t.

Percy finally understands the remaining few lines of the prophecy.

_To storm or fire the world shall fall.  
An oath to keep with a final breath._

Gaea’s going to fall at his hands, and he’s going to fulfil his oath.

His watery hands are encasing the goddess.

Little by little he dissects the molecules Gaea is made up of and his arms shake with the strain. Slowly, his eyes begin to water; his nose starts to bleed; blood leaks from his eyes and mouth; and Percy suspects he developed internal bleeding at some point as well.

In other words, as Gaea is taken apart piece by piece, he is one step closer to spontaneously combusting. He’s a mere demigod, not freaking Chaos who can take her apart and live.

In her final moments, Percy pauses a bit to catch his breath. “You will die, Perseus Jackson!” she snarls. “If not by my hand, then by my brother’s. He is the second-most powerful, and the world will _burn in flames_!” her eyes gleam like madman (or a mad _woman_ , in her case) and the worst part is . . .

. . . Percy completely believes her. But he doesn’t think he’ll be alive till then.

And the moment Gaea explodes like a bomb was implanted in her, Percy falls like a stone to the Earth from miles above.

He knows he’ll become a demigod pancake, but he can’t bring himself to care. He did well on his promise.

_He ripped Gaea apart with his bare hands._

Black threatens to overcome him, and now that he’s done his job, even though he knows once he succumbs to it he’ll cease to exist, he can’t bring himself to care.

It takes over, and he’ll be gone . . . _forever_.

**\- X -**

The moment Annabeth got stabbed, Jason _knew_ Gaea would be put an end to. Permanently.

The anger that radiates from his  cousin his like a hot physical barrier.

“No!” Percy screams.

 _Bingo_. He thinks just as the water explodes everywhere. It spares no one, save Poseidon and Triton, considering they were deities of the Sea. It rejuvenated them, and left Jason sputtering in disbelief.

Jason is watching with sick fascination as Percy completely _decimated_ the monsters, and at those moments Jason knows that his cousin is the most powerful demigod of all time. More powerful than Hercules, Perseus, Achilles, Nico, Thalia, and even himself.

Within minutes, the monsters are cut up into tiny granules of golden dust. The water around Percy turns to jagged shards of ice, and a huge chunk of which he’s standing on. Gaea’s just smiling, like it was some kind of interesting television show.

Jason wants to throw up.

“C’MON GRANDMA DEAREST!” Percy screams so loudly, Jason’s left wondering why he hasn’t gone deaf yet, or why Percy hadn’t gotten both dumb _and_ deaf. “YOU WANTED A FIGHT? I’LL GIVE YOU ONE! C’MON YOU STUPID PRIMORDIAL, LOOK AT ME!”

Gaea looks like Percy like he’s gum at the bottom of her sneakers (not that she has any).

_Big mistake._

Gaea raises an eyebrow, not impressed in the slightest. What kind of being was she? Sasquatch? Bigfoot? Or maybe Chaos? Well, whatever she thinks of herself, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that she is going to die, and never return

“What are you waiting for?” She barks at her army, who flinch like they’ve been shocked. “Go get them!”

She turns to Percy, and smiles coldly. “And as for _you_ , Percy Jackson,” she says maliciously, “I’ll deal with you myself.”

Jason is horrified, but he can’t dwell on it longer because Porphyrion is bounding right towards him and Jupiter, and they have to focus, or they’ll be turned into two Sparky Pizzas with extra Sparks.

He registers Percy letting loose his shards as he pokes out Porphyrion’s eye with his sword and his father’s master bolt is flying with him. Porphyrion had probably been reeling from what Percy had done a few minutes ago, not that Jason can blame the poor bastard, which is probably why he hadn’t fried Jason.

The Giant turns to golden dust as his expression contorted into one of terror.

Polybotes however, is not that easy to take care of.

He’s fighting like an extremely skilled _retiarus_ ; his trident is everywhere and Jason can feel the temperature dropping several degrees. Triton and Jason are scrambling to get a handhold on the guy while he’s fighting _both_ Jupiter and Poseidon _together_.

Wow. The guy must be _really_ incensed.

Polybotes gives an ear-shattering roar. “Your resistance is futile, puny gods!” he says to two of the Big Three. “You _together_ cannot stand up to me, and you expect your _children_ , who are _weaker_ than yourselves to help you best me?! You will be _destroyed_!”

He shoots poison in a three-sixty circle. The demigods hiss in pain, the gods stumble a bit and Poseidon is completely unharmed.

Jason, on the other hand gets a bucket worth of said poison.

He’s falling to the ground like a rag doll when really bright light blinds him temporarily as it heals his wounds, and plants his feet on the ground safely.

The Giants however, are flat out screaming in pain. When the light clears, not a speck of Giant remains.

Jason, once again finds himself staring at Percy as he disappears into the clouds. Without any water under him.

The sky lights up with the same bright light that healed him, and Jason can hear Gaea’s screams. Little drops of red, human blood fall from the sky, and Jason can tell without looking that its Percy’s.

Gods, he must be in a lot of pain.

After a few moments, Jason hears Gaea shout, “You will die, Perseus Jackson! If not by my hand, then by my brother’s. He is the second-most powerful, and the world will _burn in flames_!”

_Oh my gods._

Moments after she said that, Percy falls from beyond the clouds. Darkness expels from him, and lands straight at Jason, who stares at it with detached fascination.

“Jason!” He hears Piper scream as she begins to run towards him hopelessly.

And the next thing he sees is white as weights settle on his chest.

**\- X -**

He has a _handprint_ on him.

It’s an angry red scar on his pale skin, and Dean can see his friend smile apologetically in response.

“You can give my body a freaking makeover,” he grouches, “but you couldn’t stop this from happening.” He gestures at the mark. Dean just knows that the guy who’s sticking to him like he is his protector is the sole reason why he’s out of Hell.

His friend looks sheepish.

“Whatever,” he grumbles, covering the scar with his shirt again. He goes to the coffee table and grabs the cash which Mister Guardian must have gotten. “I owe Bobby and Sam a visit.”

Mystery Man nods in approval and gestures in way that that clearly says: _You sure do, buddy._

And the sly smirk on his face makes Dean _really_ jumpy. It just _screams_ ‘ _You’re in_ so _much trouble!_ ’

And damn it all, that is so true. Sam will have his head.

So _maybe_ going to Bobby is the better option.

At least he won’t get die (again) this time due to Samquatch’s rather painful bear hugs.

His friend looks like he’s wincing in sympathy.

“Why can’t anyone see you?” Dean asks curiously. “And why can’t you talk?”

His friend makes rapid gestures in sign language, and since his marine dad had trained him in it, he is able to decipher it.

Dean’s eyebrows disappear in his hairline. “What do you mean _my ears will hurt if you speak_?!”

With a look that clearly fires an accusatory _you asked for this_ bitchface that Sam would usually pull when Dean was being particularly difficult, his friend opens his mouth.

Which is a _bad mistake_.

The ringing is earsplitting. Dean clutches his head as the windows of the hotel store blow out around him. Just another weirdo thing to add to his  _what the fuck is going on_  list. 

“Okay, okay!” He shouts. “You’ve proven your point!”

The screech immediately stops, and his friend has a smug look on his face.

 _Now to see who’s alive_. He thinks as he picks up the landline that is present in his room. Sam’s number is punched in robotically, what with the muscle memory remaining, and Dean calmly holds the receiver to his ear.

Sam doesn’t pick up. The call goes straight to voicemail.

He punches in Bobby’s number this time, and waits for the results.

" _Yeah?"_ Bobby picks up. That is just so . . . well, _Bobby_. Straight-to-business as ever.

"Bobby?" Dean says cautiously. His friend looks encouragingly at him and Dean suddenly gets nerves of steel.

" _Yeah?"_ Bobby asks.

"It's me."

" _Who's me?"_ Bobby replies, paranoid as ever. Some things just don’t change.

"It's Dean." The receiver goes dead. Dean looks questioningly at the phone and with some prodding from his friend, calls the number again.

" _Who is this?"_ Bobby demands.

"Bobby, listen to me -" Dean tries to plead, but is cut off by Bobby viciously.

" _This ain't funny. Call again and I'll kill you."_

Damn. He puts the phone back on the receiver and checks out of the hotel, not even bothering to flirt back. He instantly crumples and throws away the receptionist’s number.

Dean notices an old car parked right in front of the convenience store, and grins. He won’t be using the money for a cab after all.

Luck is just on his side today.

His friend smiles bitterly. Why, Dean doesn’t know.

There isn't any difficulty in hotwiring the thing and he quickly drives to the nearest street sign so he could get to Bobby's place. At least Dean knows where Bobby lives.

This whole thing is beyond his mind capabilities, and it has the said part whirling. Just a couple hours ago he was in the pit and now he's back, not a scratch on him, trying to pick up the pieces with a friend who only he can see. He doesn't know how it happened and he hopes to God it isn't one of Alastair's tricks. He's had enough; he's seen enough. Maybe he was really out.

The whole time he’s been waiting for the illusion to drop, but it hasn’t. His friend smiles understandingly, like he’s been in the exact same position.

Dean doesn’t doubt it.

In a matter of hours he’s at Bobby’s doorstep ( _Since when did time pass so quickly?_ ) knocking. His friend is still next to him

Bobby opens his front door and stares in shocked confusion at him, like he can’t believe he’s there. Dean doesn’t blame the guy.

But even Bobby can’t see Mystery Man.

"Surprise." Dean says dryly.

"I don't . . ." Bobby trails off, stupefied.

"Me neither." Dean admits and steps into the house. "But here I am."

Dean lets Bobby get close before attacking him with his blade. His friend tenses, like he’s about to attack Bobby, but with a slight shake of Dean’s head he stands down, but looking like he very much wanted to restrain Bobby.

No way in hell Bobby is going to get the slip on Dean like that. Dean grabs Bobby’s wrist and spins gracefully away from him.

"Bobby it's me!" He says desperately.

"My ass!" Bobby shouts before going after Dean once more. His friend twitches in his place.

"Wait!" Dean exclaims. He had a puny chair for protection between them. "Your name is Robert Stephen Singer and you become a hunter after your wife was possessed by a demon, you're the closest thing I have to a father!"

Dean hesitates, then reaches out and touches Bobby’s shoulder. He lets out a casual "Yeah."

His friend looks like he found that amusing.

Bobby swipes at Dean again, this time dangerously close to hurting the guy who pulled him out of hell. Dean manages to get the blade from him in time. "I'm not a shapeshifter!” he exclaims, “Look, would I be able to do this, with a silver blade?" Bobby isn't going to make this easy on him at all, that much is for sure. Dean rolls up his sleeve and cuts into his arm, he grits his teeth slightly as ruby red blood runs down.

Bobby watches in silent awe. "Dean?" he says slowly.

"That's what I tried to tell you." Dean replies, exasperated.

Bobby hugs him tightly but tries to man up before he cries on his shoulder. Dean’s lips twitch and his guardian sends a look of approval.

"It's good to see you boy.” Bobby says tearfully (though he will deny this later), “How did this happen?"

"I don't know,” Dean says solemnly, “I just woke up in –”

He is interrupted by water (Holy Water to be more specific) being splashed on his face. Dean sputters a bit, spits out what went in his mouth and wipes it from his face. "I'm not a demon either." He adds darkly. He knows how close he was to becoming one.

Bobby shrugs. "Can't be too careful." _Same old, same_ old. Bobby brings him a towel. "What do you remember?" he asks

"Well, I remember being some hellhound's chew toy, then lights out. I woke up six feet under." Dean answers. The details aren't overly important right now. "The um, the number for Sam isn't working, he’s um . . ."

Bobby sits at his desk. "They're alive, as far as I know." He says.

"What do you mean, _as far as you know_?" Dean presses.

"I haven't seen Sam in . . . almost three months I guess." Bobby admits, and it has Dean getting angry.

"You were supposed to watch after him!" He accuses, and calms down when his friend put a hand on his shoulder.

"I tried!” Bobby shoots back. “He refused to stay and didn't want me tagging along.”

"How is he?" Dean wants to know more. His friend looks like he wants to tell, but he doesn’t want to ruin the precarious balance Dean had built.

Bobby shrugs with a sigh before replying. "I guess the best word would be surviving. The last four months have been rough on all of us."

"Any idea where they are?"

"None."

Dean pieces some pieces together, something isn't right. "Did Sam say why he didn't want me burned?"

His friend smirks slightly at that.

"Said you'd need a body when he got you home somehow.” Bobby says. “That's the last thing he ever said, he got real quiet."

"Damn it Sammy." He shakes his head before lying. "He got me home okay, but whatever he did was bad mojo."

His friend looks affronted. Dean looks at him with an almost sorry look that somehow managed to escape Bobby’s notice. _Gotta keep up the act._

His friend nods.

"How do you figure?" Bobby asks him.

"You should have seen the gravesite.” Dean says gravely. At least this is the truth. “Looked like a nuke went off, then there was this, spirit or presence or something I don't know. It blew past me in a fill up joint. Then there's this . . ." He pulls up his sleeve to show Bobby the scarred handprint on his shoulder.

Dean knows he had to show it, otherwise they’d find out. A good lie is the one that has a bit of truth in it, after all.

"What in the hell . . ." Bobby mumbles.

"Looks like a demon just yanked me out, or rode me out." Dean lies again, and his invisible friend wrinkles his nose.

"But why?" Bobby demands, as if _Dean_ should know.

"To hold up their end of the bargain." Dean says, his friend is smirking at his audacity to lie so much.

 _It makes sense at least_. He had to give him that much credit, at least.

"You think Sam made a deal?" Bobby says angrily.

"It's what I would have done." Dean replies sadly. It’s what he _had_ done.

**\- X -**

It doesn't take him long to find Sam's cell phone.

Using the alias Dean knew he would use, he has the GPS turned on and finds out it is in Pontiac, Illinois. _What a coincidence_ , it is right near where Dean had been buried. Yes, he had gone through the bother of finding out. Dean got on the road with Bobby and drove out.

The seedy motel is similar to all the others they'd stayed in, but there is just something Dean didn't like about Sam being there without him. His mind is drowning in anxiety when he sees the heart on the door of the room number Sam is in and he knocks loudly.

_Rap!_

He is relieved when some brunette answered, wearing a tank top and panties. It could have been worse.

His friend is outright laughing.

"Where is it?" The girl asks them.

"Where's what?" Dean replied, confused by the request

"The pizza,” She snaps, “that takes two guys to deliver?"

Dean smiles. "I think we have the wrong room."

"Hey is . . ." Sam walks out and trails off. He looks at Dean, then at Bobby, then back at Dean. _What the hell?_

"Hey Sammy." Dean greets Sam before walking into the room like he owns it, only to get a repeat greeting as Sam tried to stab him.

Bobby swiftly grabs hold of him and tries to wrestle the knife away. "Sam it's him! I already checked him out and it's really,  _really_  him." He shouts at the youngest Winchester.

Sam stops and looks a Dean again.

His friend is shaking his head. Dean internally heaves a dramatic sigh, _I live with morons._

His friend looks like he’s trying to laugh.

"I know," Dean smiles charmingly. "I look fantastic."

The lame joke is music to Sam’s ears. He hugs his older brother.

His friend winces in sympathy.

"So are you two like . . . together?" The girl cautiously asks from the door.

"What?" Sam looks at her like she dropped from Mars and is declaring that she’s going to invade the earth with slightly lower temperatures. "No, he's my brother."

"Right, I just thought that . . .” She says, inching towards the door. “I'm gonna go."

"That would be good.” Sam agrees.

She quickly puts some clothes on and heads for the door for real. "So call me." she flirts.

"Yeah, yeah. Sure thing Cathy." Sam opens the door for her, rather rudely in Dean’s opinion.

She looks a little hurt. "Christy." She says.

"Right." Sam says, disinterested. He waves and shuts the door, turning back to the prodigal brother.

Dean watches him sit down. "So what did it cost?" he asks.

His friend looks sick. Shame. Dean will have to introduce him to the world.

"What, the girl?" Sam laughs at the notion. "I don’t pay for it Dean."

"That's not funny.” Dean snaps at his brother. He couldn’t care less for the girl at the moment. _Rude,_ his friend seems to be telling him. “To bring me back, what did it cost? Was it just your soul? Or was it worse? I'm off the hook and you're on? You're some demon's bitch boy? I didn't want to be saved like this."

He stands sadly. "I wish I had done it." Sam says.

"Tell me the truth Sam!" Dean keeps up the act.

"I tried everything, that's the truth!” Sam explodes. “I tried the Gate, I tried the crossroads, the demons weren't dealing! I've questioned like a hundred demons! You were rotting in hell for months, for  _months,_ alright? I couldn't stop it. I'm sorry it wasn't me."

Dean nods, he knows the truth.

Sam can't help but smile. "Why don't you take a shower? You smell like dirt."

"Hey!” Dean protests. He had already taken a shower.

His guardian friend looks almost sympathetic to his plight, but the mirth shining in eyes says otherwise.

 _What is my life?_ Dean thinks dramatically.

Maybe he should become an actor.

**\- X -**

It feels good to be back behind the wheel of his Impala.

With Sammy in the back seat and Bobby behind them in his truck, life is good. They are on their way to see a psychic that Bobby knows, see if they can figure out what is going on. To be completely honest, Dean wants to know his friend a bit more. It gets tedious calling someone ‘Mystery Man’, ‘Guardian’ and ‘Friend’.

Said guy is smiling sadly, looking out.

"Sam how'd you get out that night?" He glances in the rearview mirror. "I thought Lilith wanted to kill you."

"She tried, she couldn't." Sam replies.

"What do you mean she couldn't?" Dean asks, alarmed.

"She fired this burning light at me,” Sam says, “and it didn't leave a scratch. Like I was immune or something. I don't know who was more surprised, me or her. Anyway, she left pretty quickly after that."

"What about Ruby?” Dean asked suspiciously. He doesn’t want that bitch close to Sam or anyone he knows. His friend is interested in the conversation, and he looks like he understands the sentiment. “Where's she?"

"Dead." Sam states quickly. "Or in hell."

  1.  He didn't even hesitate to lie to Dean.



Dean is disappointed. Looks like that bitch is up and about. Well, he’ll have to put a stop to that.

"So have you been using your freaking ESP stuff?" Dean says. _Please let it be no, please let it be no._

His friend looks at Sam pointedly, who also can’t see him.

"No."

The glare turns accusatory, and Dean sadly wonders why Sam felt the need to lie.

"You sure?” Dean prods. “You've got immunity or whatever now, you don't have anything else freaky going on?"

"No, Dean.” Sam lies again. “You told me not to go down that road so I didn't go down that road. It was practically your dying wish."

_And you didn’t even honor it._

It takes everything in Dean not to spin around and look at him. That's exactly what he had told him when he was arguing against him using the psychic thing.

Dean doesn't respond any more, he wasn't okay with this. He didn't want Sam to lie to him.

His friend goes back to watching the road.

The psychic’s name is Pamela Barnes. She isn't what they had expected from a psychic; Pamela is the exact opposite of the crazy old lady waving a crystal ball. Well, she might be a little crazy but she isn't old, she is hot and definitely has her eyes on the Winchesters. She wants to do a séance to get a sneak peek at Dean’s friend.

She quickly gets the things set up and has them sit around a table of candles, holding hands. "Okay,” She says, “I need to touch something our mystery monster touched." Pamela slides her hand under the table.

His friend snickers, even though he’s the one getting summoned.

Dean's leg jerks and hits the top of the table. "Whoa!” he exclaims “Well he didn't touch me there!"

She smirks. "My mistake."

His friend is outright cackling like a maniac.

He rolls his sleeve up and she puts her hand over his handprint.

_Okay, hot shot, time to know who you are._

Pamela closes her eyes, focusing again. "I invoke, conjure and command you, appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure and command you, appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure and . . ." His friend begins to talk to Pamela.

"Percy?" They look at Pam. Dean looks weirdly at his friend. His name is Percy? "No, sorry Percy I don't scare easily."

"Percy?" Sam says, disbelieving.

"Its name.” Pam answers. “It's whispering to me, warning me to turn back. I conjure and command you, show me your face."

His friend looks insulted. Dean tries not to snicker.

As she repeats the command over and over, the table continues to shake, more violently now. Percy has some strong mojo for sure, to put up such a fight not to be seen.

Speaking of Percy, he is glowing brightly now.

"Maybe we should stop." Bobby warns.

"I almost got it.” Pamela throws caution to the wind. “I command you, show me your face. Show me your face now!" Suddenly the candle fire raises and she screams and Percy, the poor guy, looks apologetic as his exterior dims; a bright light fills Pamela’s eyes and they start bleeding before she falls back onto the floor. Bobby grabs her and yells at Sam to call an ambulance. When Pamela opens her eyes again, they had been burned out of her sockets.

 _I’m sorry_. Percy mouths to the psychic. Pamela has a sad smile on, like she can see him, and nods minutely like she’s trying to say: _Apology accepted._

Percy touches a finger to her forehead Pamela’s body arches off the floor. She looks at him gratefully, and he smiles in return.

Dean looks on with regret for both Pamela and Percy.

**\- X -**

Later that afternoon they stop to get something to eat while Bobby was looking over Pamela in the hospital.

She'd been pronounced stable and moved out of ICU to start the burn treatment.

"We followed these demons to town and we still haven't found them. We should go find them, someone's gotta know something about something." Sam says to Dean.

The waitress serves them their food, Dean's pie in his case and pulls a chair in front of their table.

"You angling for a tip?" Dean smirks.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were looking for us." Her eyes turn black. They look around and the other patrons of the place are demons as well. Percy is standing up and looks like he’s ready to kick demonic butt.

One gets up and locks the door. "Dean, to hell and back, aren't you a lucky duck?" he drawls

"That's me." Dean bites back.

"So you get to just stroll out of the pit? Tell me, what makes you so special?" The demon sneers at him.

"I don't know, I don't know who pulled me out.” Wow. How did Dean pull that off again? Thanks Percy, for improving my acting skills.

His friend mouths. _You are welcome_.

"Right." The demon drags out.

He pauses. "You don't know either. You're just as spooked as we are, and you're looking for answers. Maybe it was some supercharged spirit, or Godzilla, or some big, bad, boss demon. Whoever it was, they  _want_  me out, and they're a lot stronger than you. So go ahead, do your worst. But down come crawling to us when they show up on your doorstep with Vaseline and a fire hose."

Percy has worn that look for the tenth time today. Dean’s wondering if he should be bothered if it gets permanently etched in his face.

"I'm gonna reach down your throat and rip out your lungs." The demon threatens.

Sam leans forward but he holds her back, along with Percy who looked almost angry. The demon reaches out and punches Sam in the face. When he doesn't respond, he hit him again. "That's what I thought." He says.

And they get up, and walk out. Just like that. No one stops them.

Sam glances back to the diner furiously. "We're not just going to leave them there are we?" he demands.

"Hell yeah, there's three of them, probably more and we only got one knife between us." Dean reasons.

Sam shrugs nonchalantly. "We can handle them."

"Whatever kamikaze slaughtering you were into before is stopping now okay? I'm back. Those demons are scared and we've got something more important going on." Dean says sternly to his brother and together they return to Bobby’s in relative silence.

Tonight the windows blow out of Dean’s room and crashing is heard from inside. "Shit." Sam runs to the room, stepping through the broken window to get inside just as Bobby comes in. "Dean?" he asks.

Dean is on the floor clutching his head and blood is running from his hands. Sam doesn't give a damn about the consequences, they are summoning this bastard. _Now_.

After he cleans up a little, Bobby drives them out to an abandoned barn and they set up shop. They cover every inch of that place with traps, symbols, talismans, everything from every religion in the world. They stock up on stakes, silver, rock salt, iron and of course, Ruby's knife that Dean had swiped from Sam; everything they need to kill everything they'd ever heard of. It is the unheard of they are nervous about.

Bobby recites the incantation and they wait. They are starting to wonder if anything will happen at all when suddenly the building around the starts to shake.

Dean glances up. "Could be really strong wind . . ." he mumbles.

Sam watches the lights burst one at a time. "Thinking not." He retorts.

The doors swing open slowly. A teenage boy with raven hair with the brightest green eyes walks onto the concrete towards them. If Sam has to guess, he’ll say that the guy could be no older than seventeen with a swimmer’s build and a height as tall as Dean’s.  The hunters present (save Dean, who’d gotten very quiet) fire everything they have to no avail. He is immune. Not a good sign. He approaches Dean without a trace of fear on his face and pulls him to his feet and claps him good-naturedly on the back. Dean gives him a weak smile and it has Sam confused.

"Who are you?" Sam asks the newcomer.

"I’m the guy who dragged Dean’s sorry _podex_ out of hell." He replies calmly.

"Yeah, thanks for that." Dean says, and Sam stabs him with Ruby's knife before Dean can shout. Nothing. _Are you serious?_ The teen pulled the knife out and dropped it to the ground.

Bobby goes to him with the iron and the guy grabs the bar in one hand, touches him on the forehead with the other and Bobby drops motionless to the ground. Sam gets the same treatment.

"We need to talk Dean, _alone_." Percy sees the look on Dean’s face and glances to the others. "Your friends are alive, they'll be fine."

He checks the pulses anyway. "Who are you?" Dean asks.

"I'm Percy."

"I figured that.  _What_  are you?"

"I'm an angel."

"There's no such thing."

Percy shrugs. "I don’t blame you. I’d been turned into the heavenly pigeon a year ago." Thunder echoes around Dean and lightning seems to flash inside the building and Dean watches as a shadow of a wingspan spread out behind him. No freaking way.

"Some angel you are, you burned that poor woman's eyes out." Dean says rudely to his friend, and at the look of hurt on Percy’s face he instantly regrets it.

"I warned her.” Percy says sadly. “My true form can be overwhelming to mortals. I gave her the ability to see without eyes to compensate. My voice can be too, as you forced me to prove the first time, and the second was completely my fault. Sorry about that." Percy looks pointedly at him at first, then sheepish, “I couldn’t control my power.”

"The ringing." Percy nods at Dean’s clarification. "Buddy next time, lower the volume." Dean jokes

"I’d heard that certain people, special people can handle my true form. I thought you might be one of them. You could see my true form, but you couldn’t hear my voice. I’ll admit I was too eager to perform that experiment at the hotel.”

Dean eyes him. "So what visage are you in now? Holy teenage rebel?”

"This?" He raises the sides of his orange shirt. "This is a vessel. At least, that was Dad number four tells me it’s called."

“Dad number four?”

“God.”

"You're possessing some poor bastard?" Dean changes the topic.

"Hades no!” Percy barks out. “This is my own body. God gave it to me when after it exploded to smithereens.”

Dean steps back, his eyes sweeping the floor as he rolls the information over in his head. None of it makes sense. "Why would an angel rescue me from hell?"

"What's the matter?" Percy looks at him, like he knows _exactly_ what’s going on in Dean’s head. "You don't think you deserved to be saved."

At Dean’s look his eyes extruded warmth and understanding. The room suddenly began to smell like the fresh sea.

“As much I hate to be the one who’s going to break it to you, because gods know how much _I’ve_ been used like that, but you’re needed Dean. You've got work to do. God has work for you. I’m sorry.” Percy drops his gaze apologetically while saying the last two words.

And Percy’s gone, just like that. Sam and Bobby climb to their feet, looking incredibly confused.

"What the hell happened Dean?" Sam sees that the sun is coming up and the guy is nowhere to be seen.

Dean shakes his head, not really sure himself of what to say. "You're never gonna believe what this guy was dishing."

**\- X -**

“You can’t do this!” Percy protests. “He’s suffered enough!”

God looks the youngest angel sternly. “I know he has Perseus, but he is needed. Your brothers need to be taught a lesson. You should understand, after all you are the Angel of Righteous Justice and Loyalty.”

“You’d think even after being the all-knowing one you’d remember that I _hate_ being called Perseus.” Percy grumbles playfully.

God smirks. “It’s far too much fun, _Perseus_.”

“I guess it is, _Lady Chaos_ ,” Percy retorts.

Chaos gasps dramatically. “What did you just call me?”

“You heard me,” Percy’s smile is positively crooked, “ _Lady Chaos._ ”

“Get ready to be pulverized, Perseus Jackson!” Chaos calls after him. “You have . . .” she trails off before grinning. “Ten seconds.”

Percy is gone faster than a shot.

Well, it’s been forever since she’s had this much fun, so she might as well enjoy the moment.

 


End file.
